


Putting it back together

by Rioghna



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst and Humor, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 11:26:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2307968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rioghna/pseuds/Rioghna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of the series two finale, Torchwood struggles on and Gwen has to explain some hard things to Rhys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Putting it back together.

Putting It Back Together

“Why?” he asked, trying for calm. It had been a month since the world was turned on its head, a month of tears and cleaning up, and neither of them seeing as much of each other as they’d like. And when they did, it wasn’t a quiet night with each other any more. No, it was pizza on the threadbare couch in that comic book bunker of theirs (Sorry, love, the Rift monitors are on the blink, can’t leave, but Jack says come on. Oh, could you pick up the pizza? We’re a bit off Jubilee at the moment, there’s a love). Or doubling with Jack and Ianto over at the curry place down the quay, (I’ll be there I promise. Do you mind if they join us? We’ve been out hunting all day and not had a bite, say you don’t mind, say it.) Now for the first time since all hell had let loose over Cardiff his wife was home and cooking and she wanted to have them to dinner. Rhys didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He felt as if they hadn’t had a proper evening together since the day after the disaster, like they hadn’t stopped running. 

“What do you mean, why? They’re friends, nothing wrong with having friends to dinner is there?” Gwen answered, her voice brittle, falsely bright.

“No, there isn’t but I don’t see you inviting Banana round eh?”

Gwen sighed. She didn’t want to have this conversation, even though she knew she probably should, but she was just tired. “It’s different…”

“Yeah, it’s different. Look, Gwen, sweetheart, I know you lot have been through some serious shit, yeah. I’m proud, bloody proud now that I’ve gotten over the screaming terror. I haven’t asked you to quit or anything because I know what you do is important, but it’s just…”

“They need me,” she said.

“I need you too.”

“You don’t understand.”

“After everything that’s happened? Try me,” Rhys said, a bit more harshly than he meant.

Gwen took a deep breath and tried to put her thoughts together. It had been hard, getting everything back in order. Sorting through Owen’s and Tosh’s belongings, trying to keep going, do their jobs, but perhaps the hardest thing was Jack. It had taken a week for her to really notice, another for her to understand, or as much as she could, what he had been through dying, lying buried in the soil for longer than she could imagine. At first he had been clingy, reluctant to let Ianto or even her far out of his sight. 

Ianto had left the tourist office front closed and stayed beneath, understanding far better than her. He had given up all pretense that he and Jack were less than partners, allowing himself to be touched, only going home for clothes and only when he could either drag Jack with him, or when he knew she would be there. Poor Ianto, the youngest of them, and yet it was his strength that Jack leaned on. 

How could she explain this all to her blessedly normal husband, that Jack needed to remember what normal life was, what it was he fought and died for? She thought about the first time she had stood in the Hub, clutching her camouflage pizzas while Jack made her see how much bigger the world really was. Rhys had helped them save the world, surely he deserved the same understanding. Maybe she couldn’t keep trying to protect him.

“What did you see at the warehouse after those bombs went off?” she said, taking a page from Jack’s book. He was right, she hadn’t got tired of following him.

“What do you mean, what did I see? Bloody great pile of rubbish that you could have been in, that’s what I saw. Lucky no one was killed.”

“Someone was,” she said, “What did you see?”

“You mean Jack? Lucky man, I don’t know CPR. For a moment I thought he was a goner, til he started breathing on his own. Must have just been stunned or…”

“Rhys, what did you see?”

“He revived…”

“No, what did you see?”

“Gwen, it can’t…I saw him come back to life, but that doesn’t happen, not in real life. Does it?”

“Yes, it does. If it’s Jack it does.”

“What, you make out like he’s some sort of…”

“Jack can’t die. Or at least he can’t stay dead. They took him back two thousand years and buried him in the ground, but he can’t die. Now do you understand? He had to lay there, worrying about getting back and saving us, no knowing what was happening, unable to move, just in the ground, living, dying, coming back, over and over. And Rhys, it hurts him! He told us once it was like crawling over broken glass. Worse, he felt like he deserved it, served it like some kind of bloody penance for not being able to save everyone. So if we have to give up a little of our time to remind him what we did it for, is that price too high?” Gwen was crying now, tears running down her face and she looked at him uncertainly. For a moment there was only silence as they looked at each other. Then Rhys pulled her to him in a kiss of wonder and understanding.

Rhys didn’t know what to say to her after that, all he could do was be there and reassure her. He had gone from one end of the emotional spectrum to the other in the space of a breath. Anger at Jack for putting her in danger when there was none for him, awe, fear, and finally horror at what had happened, at what it meant, left him none too steady on his pins, but looking at her, he knew he would do whatever was necessary to be whatever she, whatever they, needed. “Go get some more wine then, shall I? Or would they prefer beer?” he asked, letting go and fishing for his car keys. It was little enough to give back.


	2. Just a pint between friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys takes Jack round the pint for a jar and ends up learning more about himself and his friends.

Just a pint between friends

Rhys pulled up in front of the Millennium Centre and stopped, letting the car idle. He reached out and fiddled a little nervously with the radio settings, cursing again the fact that he was still out a car after the events of last month, and was forced to drive Gwen’s old Saab. Not that he hadn’t liked the car when they bought it together, but for it to come through without much more than a ding in the paint while his beautiful new blue company car, the sign of his rise to management, had been crushed when the parking garage next to it had collapsed, that was too much. The company promised him another as soon as someone sorted who to blame and the insurance was dealt with. Meanwhile she had changed all the radio settings and he couldn’t seem to get the seat position quite right while he waited for the arrival of Captain Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones. _Bollocks, what am I doing?_ Rhys thought to himself as he gazed out across the Plass, waiting for the man to appear from the weird and (he hated to admit it) wonderful invisible lift.

He didn’t know what it was that possessed him, but it seemed a good idea at the time, just a night with the lads, only in this case it was Jack and Ianto, not exactly Banana and Daf and his usual lot, three or four pints and arguing about the football, he didn’t even know if either of them watched. Usually they talked about Torchwood things, or Jack told stories, half of which he wasn’t sure he believed. For a moment, just a moment after Gwen had told him about Jack’s condition, problem, whatever it was, he had considered that she was having him on, but that wasn’t like her. Then he considered that Jack might be having _her_ on, but that didn’t even merit consideration. From what he could see, Jack Harkness wasn’t like that, not about something serious. Jack was only ever Jack.

That was part of the problem really. It wasn’t that he was homophobic, nor his mates but… They were all regular blokes, sometimes over a pint or three things got said. Mind, he hadn’t known about Jack and Ianto when he first met them, it wasn’t as if they advertised exactly. They were hardly the sort of flamers that the boys down the pub made fun of…not exactly, but Jack was kind of flamboyant. He didn’t want this evening to end with a fight, or him getting barred, or one of his old mates saying something too embarrassing. Not that he was ashamed of his old friends, but Jack and Ianto, they were fast becoming new friends, the kind of adult friends you go on to when everyone came in pairs and you had dinner parties or something. Trying to sort his thoughts out, he wasn’t sure he even knew how he would explain it, but still, he couldn’t picture them all at a party together with Banana’s daft pranks and Daf and his girlfriend blowing off at each other. Come to it he was not sure whose embarrassment he was thinking of. It came down to one thing, everything was different, Rhys knew more, accepted more than he ever expected to.

Then there was dinner. He seemed the same, but this time Rhys watched him, really watched him. It was in the eyes, something he couldn’t identify. It wasn’t sadness, exactly, or nostalgia, something else. Jack watched them, all of them, even him, but with Ianto and Gwen it was something he couldn’t quite put a finger on. It was almost as if he was taking note of every movement, concerned that they were safe and would not disappear, though he hid it all under teasing and humor. There was the almost childlike joy at every act of kindness and something that might be gratitude, as if he owed them and not the other way round.

Now he was a part of it. Oh, not Torchwood, never that madness, but he had signed up as a complete convert in the effort to remind Jack Harkness what normal life was all about, why they were worth the price he had paid for saving humanity. Rhys now had a place of his own, normal bloke, the outside perspective. He had heard the tales, Owen walking through the streets full of weevils to save them all from impending nuclear meltdown, Tosh bleeding slowly to death at her post, trying to save him. He had held Gwen while she cried, and listened while they talked, feeling himself choke up just a little for people he had known only briefly and vaguely before they died so everyone else could live. Then he helped Gwen clear the dishes and turned the topic to the reconstruction of the road, much to everyone’s relief.

When he had proposed taking Jack and Ianto round the local for a pint, it was a genuine offer; spur of the moment like, just the sort of thing normal blokes did with their friends. Truth be told, he hadn’t really thought about it. It was more of an impulse really, just felt like he should. He hadn’t expected Gwen to jump on the idea quite so hard. Actually, when he did think, he figured they wouldn’t be interested. Even now he wasn’t sure they whether they actually wanted to or whether Gwen had pushed them. He knew from experience how stubborn she could be. So here he was, waiting for Jack to come out from beneath the pavement, wondering if this had been such a good idea as he pulled his mobile out to give Gwen a ring.

“Sorry I’m late,” Jack said as he tried to settle himself and his coat in the passenger seat and get the safety belt done up. “I had to feed Myfanwy, she’s been a little snippy lately, I don’t think she is getting enough attention.” There was a touch of concern on the man’s face.

“Er, yeah,” Rhys said, at a loss for intelligent words. After all, what is there to say to someone who is late because their pet pterodactyl was playing up? “Just us then, is it?” he asked, though he knew the answer. Gwen had let him in on Ianto’s plans to forcibly move some of Jack’s belongings back to his, saying that the boss had more important things to worry about and he apparently wasn’t getting enough rest for their liking. Rhys thought it more likely that Jack found himself unwilling or unable to focus on those everyday things and considered it was probably better that he had someone who cared that much to do it for him. Rather like I do for Gwen, he thought as he turned down the familiar street and tried to give Jack a smile. “So, round to the pub then, just the lads, eh?”

“I suppose so. Hope your pub has food though, they pushed me out without so much as a piece of pizza. If I didn’t know better I would think they were planning something.” Rhys kept his eyes firmly on the road and tried to keep his face straight. Not much got round Jack, he had to give the man that.

“You’re in luck there, mate. One of my locals has the quiz finals tonight, the other has food, and I’m not much for pub quiz.”

“Me either, though Ianto’s probably a whiz.”

“Maybe another night then. With four we have enough for our own team and Gwen likes the odd pub quiz after a pint or so.”

“Who do you usually team with?” Jack asked, not wanting to butt in and trying to keep the conversation going at the same time. He wasn’t completely sure why he had agreed, though he had gotten to know Rhys better recently, and Ianto had been for it as well, though he backed out at the last minute. Jack was told firmly that he would go, as Ianto had laundry to deal with and any help from the man in his life would make it even longer.

“Just a couple old mates, whoever happens to be around,” Rhys answered vaguely. “Not that anyone has been up to much recently, too busy, or rather stay home after…” He stopped, not wanting to say anything more.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said quietly, “I didn’t want anyone to die.”

“Not your fault, mate,” Rhys said, trying to figure out how he stuck his foot so far in his throat. “Mind, first time I met you, I could have killed you myself, you looking at my wife like that. You could have saved me a lot of worry if you’d just said when I asked.”

“Asked what?” Jack said, looking a little puzzled.

“About you being gay.”

“I’m not,” he answered, more out of force of habit than any thought.

“What? But you and Ianto, I thought…” Rhys tried to look over and still keep one eye on the road.

“We are. It isn’t that simple.” For a moment there was silence in the car while the two men sorted their thoughts out. “The thing about categories, about labels, is they’re easy,” Jack continued after a moment. “People don’t have to think. They know what to expect if you are gay or straight, whether it really means anything about who you are or not. It’s much more difficult to explain when you base your choices on other things, things less concrete than just gender or species. A lot of people are disgusted by that, think it is wrong, but where I come from sex is about all kinds of things, or nothing at all, without the baggage attached. I am with Ianto, and plan to stay with him, and only him for now, because that is what he and this culture, right here, right now, have chosen to believe. Do you understand now?” There was an intensity to Jack’s voice, and Rhys didn’t know what to say to that. Pulling the car to a halt as he waited for the guy ahead of him to pull out, he decided it needed more thought, preferably later.

“As long as you aren’t after my girl,” he said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. “I thought, for a minute you might be in love with her. You know, she is beautiful and all.”

“I do love Gwen, she reminds me of an old friend… Rose. But not the way you love her.”

“Tha’s alright then, shall we?”

The pub was a fairly standard example of its type, neither trendy nor sick-makingly twee with fake beams and horse brasses. The bartender gave Rhys a wave as he finished filling a couple pints at the far end of the bar. They grabbed a table right at the end, with a view of the tele showing highlights of last night’s premiere league and an equally good view of the front door. He noticed that Jack was careful to put his back to the wall, leaving everything else in his field of vision. Cautious, that was Jack.

“You invited me, I’ll get the first round,” Jack said, rising.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink before,” Rhys said to Jack as he set down the two pint glasses and a couple of menus.

“Oh, I drink,” Jack said, perusing the piece of paper. “Used to drink a lot.”

“Gave it up, eh? I know Gwen used to get cross when I’d been out on a lash.”

“I can just bet. No, just since I’ve had my…” he took a minute to try to find the right word for his strange inability to stay dead.

“Condition?” Rhys suggested helpfully.

“Yeah, condition, makes me sound like I have a blood disease or something, though. Anyway it’s just a lot harder for it to make an impact on me. Now, I just drink for the taste. Besides, I’ve got to be ready. Tonight I was told in no uncertain terms that I was off duty for anything short of the end of the world.”

“Alright then,” Rhys said with a smile and held up his glass. “To a quiet night then.”

“A quiet night in Cardiff,” Jack said with only the barest trace of cynicism as he clinked his glass with the other man. “Now, what’s good here?”

The whole thing had gone pretty well so far, he thought as he watched Jack make his way to the bar. The steak pies were microwave but not half bad, and his wife’s boss was one hell of a storyteller, though he had no idea what to take seriously and what not. Still, it wasn’t turning in to a half bad night. Or it wasn’t until the door opened. He, Daf, and Bananaboat, went way back, before uni even and he usually loved spending time with them, but this was not the night for them to come through the door, laughing and joking.

For just a moment, he wanted to sink into the floor, then it passed and he found himself waving them over to him with a smile on his face. Jack had disappeared, probably to the men’s or checking on the pterodactyl, or something. He’d worry about that later.

“See she let you out, mate,” Daf said as he gave him a friendly slap on the back. “Why didn’t you give us a bell? Or you just feel like drinking on your own?”

"Not on my own though," he said as Jack returned to the table. "Jack, this is Daf and Banana, they're old mates o' mine."

"Banana, huh?" Jack said shaking hands with the two men. If he'd had any doubts about Jack being too… well, Jack, he realized he didn't have to. The older man was being positively sedate. He didn't even leer when he asked, and hell, most people did. "I bet there's a story to that one. Captain Jack Harkness," he said before casting about for a couple of loose chairs.

"There is, but you don't want to hear it, trust me, I was there," Rhys said, as Daf groaned appreciatively. "Jack works with Gwen," he told them as they settled around the small table.

"Ah, one of those special operations coppers, then, not that I think that much of the work, mate." Banana was a tall, blonde bloke with a goofy grin. It wasn't that Banana was stupid, as Rhys had told Gwen any number of times. It was that he just didn't consider the consequences.

"You just aren't keen on coppers full stop, after they suspended your driving licence," Daf teased.

"I weren't but going one way, there wasn't any call for all that," Banana responded, clearly still aggrieved. "And yeah, I might have had a couple o' pints…"

 _Eight or nine_ , Daf mouthed at Jack. Rhys, slightly embarrassed, looked over at Jack but the older (and how) man had a huge grin on his face.

"So you got a little turned around," Jack said, understandingly. "Could happen to anyone."

Banana clearly thought Jack was taking the mickey, but as he could see no sign of it, he continued. "Exactly, an' it wasn't as if anyone else were on the road."

"Yeah, I've had a couple of nights like that myself," he said reasonably.

"So they took me license away, just got it back."

"Jack don't have anythin' to do with the traffic though, mate."

"Yeah, Special Operations, bloody hell, that's spy stuff, yeah?" Daf asked.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," Jack said with a perfectly straight face. Daf and Banana both looked like they were trying to sort if he was serious, when he cracked a smile.

"Nah, just wipe your memory for you," Rhys said. The other two started laughing.

"Good one. Memory wiping, you've been watching that science fiction stuff again, yeah." Jack joined them. When the laughter died down and they had sorted the next round though, the talk turned serious again. It started with the news broadcast, talking about things still unrepaired after the 'terrorist attacks'.

"What really happened, though?" Daf asked. "I mean terrorists? This is Cardiff, not London or New York. Who'd want to blow up Cardiff? Then there are those stories 'bout wild animals in the streets. What, the terrorists training animals now are they?" Rhys looked at Jack, wondering what he would say. He wasn't sure he wanted his friends to have their memories wiped, nor was he sure he wanted to rip open those wounds that Jack seemed to be finally letting heal.

"Alright," the immortal said, after a few moments. The serious look on his face was enough to calm them both down. "I'll tell you what I can, but you have to keep it under your hats, ok?"

"Fine."

"Yeah." The two men agreed eagerly.

"Jack, you don'…" Rhys started.

"It's ok, just let me get everyone a fresh drink, this is a thirsty story," he said. Daf and Banana both agreed. Rhys gave Jack a hard look, but the older man shook his head as if to reassure him that yes, he knew what he was thinking, and no, he wasn't planning on wiping their memories either.

"Listen you two," Rhys said sharply when Jack had turned to the barman. "He lost two of his team that night, good people, and friends. If he stops, you don't push 'im, got it?"

"Yeah," Daf said. "Sorry, we din't know, did we?"

"That's why I'm tellin' ye', yeah? I know you're curious, hell I would be if I hadn't been there." They both nodded more or less solemnly.

"Alright, here you go," Jack said, setting down pint glasses for everyone, including himself. "Now, you want to hear about what happened. Well, I suppose it started with a terrorist threat. Everyone's sensitive to those things these days, you know? And we get a lot more threats and tips that don't mean anything but they all have to be checked out, just in case." They nodded, as if they had a clue about what went on checking out terrorist threats, but it sounded exciting, as opposed to the reality, which Rhys knew was terrifying. Jack could keep an audience though, Rhys had to give him that. He'd been there for at least part of it, but he found himself sucked in, forgetting the blood and the terror. Jack told them of a single madman with the aid of a hostage and a mob of people who'd been hopped up on a new hallucinogen, and how they'd almost destroyed the city.

"Drugs, I thought it was wild animals?" Banana'd said.

"Trust me, mate, don't know what they were on but I was at the nick, wit' Gwen when they attacked. They din't look human. Wouldn't have known better if I'd just seen 'em on a dark street." They both nodded sagely, accepting what he said as more logical. "On a dark street, you might even think they was aliens." There was a laugh round the table.

Jack continued, talking up how heroic Rhys had been at the police station helping Gwen and PC Davidson who they knew from the odd party when she was still a WPC. Rhys didn't half believe him either, trying to be both humble and live up to the new image. He glossed over how close they had come to losing the power plant to nuclear meltdown, and instead talked up the acts of heroism, and all the lives saved.

"So why'd they say terrorists? Make it sound like we're being invaded."

"Terrorists are scary, but there are ways of getting them. One man is a lot harder to catch than several, any of whom might be enough to trigger an attack. This time it was close." Jack said somberly.

"Bloody hell mate, you succeeded though, yeah? That counts for a hell of a lot. Rhys says you lost people?" Daf asked, of the two he was a bit faster on the uptake. Banana was looking shocked and drinking his beer.

Jack nodded.

"Recon we all owe 'em a debt then. I know you special ops types don't get fancy memorials, but would you mind we hoist one for 'im?" Daf asked. Rhys didn't think he'd ever been prouder of his friend. Maybe this would work out after all.

Jack had a look of gratitude mingling with the sadness on his handsome face. "I think we'd all be honored," he said, voice a little rough with emotion. Daf shoved Banana towards the bar for fresh drinks. "A toast wants new drinks, mate." The blond just nodded and did as he was told.

"What were their names?" Daf said, standing to do it properly while Banana passed out pints.

"Toshiko Sato and Owen Harper, Doctor Owen Harper."

"Well then, here's a toast to Toshiko Sato and Dr. Owen Harper, who died saving our home for which we're all pretty bloody grateful. The rest of the city may not know, but we'll remember, and thanks."

"Yeah," Banana said backing him up. He wasn't eloquent, but he knew when to just follow. Glasses clinked together and Jack quietly brushed away a tear. It wasn't the night at the pub that Rhys had envisioned, if he'd envisioned anything, but it was a pretty good start.

"Who's for darts?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last half was the part I lost, but when it turned up in an odd corner of the web I thought I'd finally post it.

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this ages ago, but never posted it because in the aftermath of a computer crash, I lost half of it. I'm not sure if it is the story I started to write , but it was a story worth telling.


End file.
